


Touching Mr. Reese

by Draycevixen



Series: Touching Mr. Reese [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Community: picfor1000, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does Mr. Finch want?</p><p>Written for the Picfor1000 challenge on Livejournal: a 1,000 word story from an assigned picture prompt. My prompt was a picture of keys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touching Mr. Reese

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Touching Mr. Reese(Chinese Translation)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191555) by [lzqsk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lzqsk/pseuds/lzqsk)



.

On his knees wasn’t as comfortable a position as it had been before a number’s ex-boyfriend had used a baseball bat on them six months before. Still, Reese could hold it until Finch was done with him. 

 

It was hard to believe that people found this erotic. He shifted slightly, smirking at the way his new leather pants creaked as he moved. He shouldn’t have left Finch in charge of wardrobe, what there was of it. 

 

The toes of Finch’s highly polished dress shoes came in to view, stopping two feet in front of him. Reese kept his head lowered in what he hoped passed for submission but looked up, drinking in the sight of Finch resplendent in evening wear; he could be in charge of wardrobe whenever he wanted. 

Finch produced handcuffs from his jacket pocket. “Hands.”

Reese bent forward until his head was almost touching the ground then raised his arms behind his back, breathing slowly and fighting the instinctive urge to lash out as Finch put the handcuffs on him. 

Finch cupped the back of Reese’s head and guided him upright again. “Now how might we reward you?”

Reese turned his head slightly to his left, eyeing the small table covered in items purchased from Madame Charmaine’s Exotic Erotica store. He’d spent part of the time waiting for Finch figuring out just how many of them could be used in a combat situation: eight definitely, three more at a push. 

Imagining Fusco having to write the resulting police report had Reese fighting back a grin. Perhaps the wine Finch had suggested “to relax them” had been a bad idea after all. 

Finch moved his hand slowly but with a distinct flourish from item to item, like he was an overdressed conjurer’s assistant. Reese nodded slightly when Finch’s hand touched the riding whip. 

Finch picked it up, flexing it between his hands. Strong, competent, graceful hands, gentle too as Finch had patched him up on numerous occasions. He loved Finch’s… hands. The wine had definitely been a bad idea. 

Reese started as Finch drew the whip up Reese’s chest and under his chin, pushing his head back. “Pay attention, John.” 

Finch was right, time to earn his paycheck. Reese allowed naked longing to show on his face, biting his lip for good measure. Finch’s eyes widened before his lip quirked slightly, expressions Reese read as “challenge accepted.” 

Finch began to slowly circle him, dragging the whip across his naked torso, tapping and flicking lightly at Reese with it as a form of punctuation for his own softly spoken words. 

“For the next eight hours you are mine to do with as I please.” Finch dragged the whip down the side of Reese’s neck, lingering over his pulse point. “Is that correct? 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“If I wanted to insert this into you” Finch picked up the oversized dildo Reese had pulled from a box proclaiming its name to be _The Annihilator_ "and then have you cook me dinner, naked, with it still inserted, you wouldn’t object?” 

It was Reese’s eyes that widened now. “No, Sir.”

Finch put the dildo back down and moved behind Reese, standing close and holding the whip loosely across the front of Reese’s throat. 

“And if I wanted to fit you with a cock ring, tie you down across the dining table and fuck you while tightening this across your throat” Finch pulled the whip a little tighter but still without any real pressure “you would supplicate for it?”

“Yes, Sir.” Reese was pleased to keep a tremor out of his voice.

Finch let the whip fall and dragged both his hands slowly down Reese’s chest towards his cock. To do so, he had to lean in much closer and Reese instinctively leaned back against the press of Finch’s erection.

Finch abruptly stepped away. “I think we have what we need.” Finch walked over to remove the digital camera from its tripod.

“Finch.” 

“I’ll edit the footage and have it posted on the _Sadie’s Masculine_ site within the hour.”

“Finch—”

“You should get dressed. With Holloway’s preferences I’m sure he’ll be calling you shortly.”

“ _Finch._ ”

Finch turned sharply to glare at him. “What is it?”

“The handcuffs?”

“Of course, sorry.” Finch quickly unlocked them and then went back to the camera, dumping the handcuffs on the table.

Reese rose slowly off his knees, rubbing at his wrists, considering his next move. Wanting Finch had been a dull ache in his chest for months now, ever since he’d woken up from yet another gunshot wound to find Finch holding his hand, keeping vigil. 

He’d tried flirting without success and then spent hours sifting the little he did know about Finch looking for a way in to Finch’s bed, the first step in his plan to become a permanent fixture in Finch’s life for whatever time was left to them. 

Oddly, it had never occurred to him that this might be it. Or perhaps he just hadn’t wanted to see it because pain and control had been his business, not his pleasure. He’d done things he’d hated for people who’d meant a lot less to him so he could do this for Finch. Given access and time perhaps Finch might…

Reese picked up the handcuffs. “The camera’s off but we could put these back on.” Reese put his hands out in front of him, wrists pressed together. “ _Sir_.”

“No thank you, Mr. Reese.” Finch was staring at the handcuffs. “I’d have thought of another way to handle Holloway if I’d realized you…” Reese wasn’t used to seeing Finch stuck for word choice. “…like this.”

“I don’t, but I could _feel_ how much you wanted it.” 

Finch looked stricken.

“...But not with me.” Figured. “Just forget it, Finch.”

Reese turned to go, Finch’s hand on his wrist stopping him.

“What I wanted.” Finch reached up to cup Reese’s face. “What I want.” He rubbed his thumb in slow easy circles against Reese’s wrist. “Is to touch _you_ , John.” 

 

.


End file.
